


New Face

by leviathncas (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Meeting, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/leviathncas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His face was a new face on the six-fifteen bus home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Face

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Foreververse AU, a collection of stories that are all fills of prompts from **imagineyourotp** over on tumblr. All stories in the 'verse are loosely interconnected. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Imagine your OTP always taking the same bus home after work. The relationship sparks when one day Person A works up the courage to sit next to Person B - the stranger who keeps catching his eye._

His face was a new face on the six-fifteen bus home. 

And Alfred F. Jones would know, as he'd been taking that same bus every day, twice a day, for nearly two years to date. 

Alfred worked across town at the public high school, teaching Physics and occasionally subbing for the American History class when the teacher fell ill. He enjoyed the science of what made the world work, and he enjoyed delving into the past that made up the wonderful country he was proud to call his home. Alfred was definitely one of the more enjoyed teachers, as his cheery, friendly and quite childish personality allowed him to connect with his students easily, and he was always happy to help them when needed. The entire reason he'd become a teacher was to help and teach others; it was his goal in life to be a hero, and he couldn't think of a better way to do so. 

So every morning before the sun was up, he was on the five-twenty bus across town from his one-bedroom apartment to the school, bag with all his graded work and lesson plans slung across his back and warm mug of French Vanilla latte from his Keurig in his hand, sitting in the seat he always managed to grab before anyone else. 

It had become an unspoken agreement that everyone would always sit where they first sat, as it was always the same people on the bus at the same time. Alfred would wave at the driver as he climbed on, receiving a tip of the man's cap as he moved into the aisle; he would smile brightly at the elderly woman who had claimed the seat in the front, her returned smile gentle and grandmotherly. Alfred would wave to the young woman who sat across from his own spot as he sat, setting his bag between his legs and leaning against the window, letting the steam from his coffee fog the window as he sipped it slowly, either staring out the window or playing a game on his phone during the ride. 

An hour later, he would be dropped off several blocks from the school – unfortunately as close as he could get – his latte half gone and cooled as he walked the rest of the twenty minutes to the campus. From there he would begin his everyday routine of getting to his classroom, finishing off the drink and whatever papers he had left to grade, and proceed to play soft jazz and blues while he waited for his students to file in. From there, he would begin his lessons, setting up demonstrations when needed, and engaging the kids in wondrous tales of epic embellishment, earning raucous laughter and just generally brightening everyone's day. 

When the final bell rang, he'd spend a couple more hours at his desk for anyone who needed help after school and grading assignments and collected homework before packing up and heading out to wait for the bus that would take him back across town to his cozy apartment with his waiting Maine Coon – appropriately dubbed Hero when the fat guy rescued a smaller kitten from a threatening Doberman when Alfred first found him – and more coffee. As he'd glance at his watch while waiting on the corner, the sleek beast would pull up and he'd climb on, waving at the driver and smiling at the old lady, taking his seat across from the same young woman with yet another wave before settling back to enjoy the ride home.

Except, there was an extra face in the seat right behind his that he hadn't seen before, and Alfred was captivated and frozen in the aisle. 

His face was pale, with a light splattering of silvery freckles across a pointed nose, and framed by pale blond hair that sat in a messy mop on top of his head, darker streaks running through it here and there. His head was tilted down, Alfred noted, his blue eyes gazing down to see a book propped open in his lap, a finger lazily tracing the edge of the page absently, poised to turn. He was clad in slacks and a collared shirt beneath a grass-green sweater vest, his legs crossed and his polished dress shoe-clad foot flexing to a mindless beat. 

Alfred had never been so taken with anyone upon first sight, but he had to admit this man, so elegant and refined and _new_ , was breathtakingly enrapturing. Alfred wished he'd look up so he could see the color of his eyes, so he could look at him directly and memorize his sharp features. Sadly, he was completely engrossed in the large novel in his lap, and looking him over once again Alfred noticed with a slight pout the white earbuds hanging from the sides of his head. The American sighed to himself as he made his way to his seat, foregoing the wave to his adjacent seatmate as he let his bag fall to the ground with a muted thud, propping his chin in his hand on the armrest and gazing longingly out the window, his thoughts far from the setting sun on the horizon. 

. . . 

Alfred quickly came to realize over the next week that the mysterious new addition to his ride to and from school was solely an evening addition. He never saw the blond in the mornings, and he couldn't help the dimming of his smile over that week as he figured it out, sighing when he saw the seat behind his empty. However, he was immediately consoled when he'd board the bus on his way home and the quickly familiar mop of blond hair would come into view, always bent over the man's lap as he read or typed away on his laptop. 

Being the sneaky ninja that he was, Alfred also quickly came to note that when he tilted his head just right when looking out the window, he could see the man's reflection in the glass, and he shamelessly took to watching him under the pretense of gazing out the window, which – seeing as he did it all the time anyway – didn't rouse any type of suspicion for his suddenly more intense gazes at the window.

Alfred watched every evening for the next month as the blond read, typed, and – to the American's initial surprise – graded papers, the red pen in his hand practically tearing the essays to shreds and looking more like the lifeblood of the paper than ink. Alfred smiled at that little tidbit of information; the man was a teacher, just like him! If anything, they'd have at least that in common to talk about. 

 _If_ Alfred could just find the courage to actually talk to the gorgeous man behind him. 

Alfred sighed at his lack of balls to simply get up and introduce himself, continuing to watch the blond from the corner of his eye in the window. He couldn't say why, but the thought of introducing himself made him nervous, which was weird because he usually had no qualms sticking his nose in random strangers' business when he felt like it. There was just something about the stranger sitting behind him, something that made his palms sweat and his breathing speed and his heart flutter within his chest when he thought about him. 

Alfred shook himself to rid his head of his thoughts, feeling the bus pull to a slow stop to let off the blond, the American watching lazily as he walked up the aisle. The man looked down suddenly, glancing between his hands quickly, and Alfred wondered if he'd forgotten something. A quick glance in the mirror as the man searched his pockets showed that yes, he'd left his phone on the seat. Before Alfred could say anything, the man turned on his heel, heading back for his phone, his face presented clearly to the American for the first time since he'd started riding the bus. 

Alfred felt his breath catch. 

Green. A lovely, deep, pure emerald green. Alfred had never seen that color green before, even in the paint aisle at the Home Depot. His first thought was that he definitely wouldn't mind staring into that emerald for the rest of his life. 

His second thought was: _what the fuck kind of growths are those above his eyes?!_  

Alfred flushed a light pink when the supposed growths furrowed in irritation and he realized belatedly that those were the man's _eyebrows._ Oh, God, he felt like such an ass, and he – quite luckily – hadn't even said anything! He was totally thrown that he hadn't possibly noticed them before, even beneath the man's fringe with his head ducked; they were _huge_! The fact that they were practically black didn't really help their size either, as they stood out very prominently against his pale face and light hair. Alfred wondered if they were as soft and fuzzy as they looked from where he was seated.

Alfred shook the thought from his head harshly, skewing his glasses as he whipped his head back and forth. He righted them just as the man made it to the front of the bus and started down the stairs, and Alfred watched him disembark fluidly before the doors closed and the bus pulled forward once again, taking the rest of the passengers to their drops. Alfred glanced out the window to see the man waving to the distance, and he looked farther out to see another blond man leaning against a car, his hair tied back and tossed over his shoulder as he looked bemusedly at the man that sat behind Alfred. 

Alfred felt his heart clench for a moment before loosening as his blond flipped the other the bird and stalked off, the other throwing his hand up exasperatedly as he followed behind. They didn't seem to be on any sort of nice terms, and Alfred felt a bit better as he turned back in his seat and pulled out his phone as it vibrated. 

The brief thought that his blond was already taken hadn't set well in his gut, and Alfred messaged his brother the rest of the way home as he tried to ignore what exactly that implied. 

. . . 

Alfred pulled his scarf around his neck tighter, burying his nose in the soft flannel as he jogged along the sidewalk, twisting to avoid people as he made his way to the little café down the street from the school. The bell on the door jingled as he entered, and he waved with a smile to the barista as he looked around. In the back corner, he found what he was looking for: a blond head with a lone, looping curl, and a pair of glasses much like his own.

His grin widened. "Mattie!" He unwrapped his scarf as he made his way to his brother, the other blond glancing up and smiling.

"Hey, Al," he called as Alfred set his bag down and came around the table. "How've you been?" He wrapped his arm around the arms that caught him in a hug. 

"Oh, you know," Alfred laughed, "the usual. Grading and teaching and stuff." He moved to his seat. "How 'bout you? Did they finally give you that promotion?" 

Matthew rolled his eyes, tossing stray hairs out of his face. "Finally," he huffed. "Took 'em long enough, though. They know I'm the only one competent enough to actually do my job, and everyone else's, too, but whatever." Alfred snickered as he shook his head. "I've already ordered for us, so they should call it soon." 

"Alright, cool." Alfred pulled his bag to him, grabbing a few of his papers and setting them on the table alongside a red pen. He shuffled through the papers as Matthew got up to get the drinks, looking over the quizzes his classes had recently taken. He smiled up at Matt in thanks as a hot cup of Caramel Macchiato with extra whip was set in front of him. "Splurging today, huh?" 

His Canadian brother smirked. "Francis said I earned it, so I took his advice." He shrugged, sipping on his own drink. 

Alfred nodded in approval, marking another question wrong. "How is he?" 

"Same old same," Matthew sighed contentedly, a smile on his face. "Just as romantic as the first time I met him." Alfred made a face and Matthew laughed, pulling out his own laptop. "Oh, shut up. You're just jealous." 

Alfred had to agree. "Whatever. As if I'd be jealous of that wimp." 

Matt rolled his eyes again. "Sure. Though I will say," he added, "he's been a bit more irritable since his 'friend'," he made air-quotes at the word friend, "moved here. I swear, anytime he's on the phone with him, it's inevitable that they start arguing. You'd almost think they were a married couple, that's how pointless the arguments are." 

Alfred gave him a look. "Should you be worried?" 

"Nah," Matthew laughed, shaking his head. "They already tried the whole 'relationship' thing, and according to Francis, if it had gone on a day longer than it did, we'd be in the middle of a third World War." He chuckled. "They just make really good frenemies." 

"Apparently," Alfred said, pursing his lips in dubious belief, but smiled at his brother's laugh. "Whatever works for you guys." 

Matt sipped his drink again with a sheepish expression. "So," he said a moment later. "You find your courage yet?" There was a knowing glint in his indigo eyes that caused Alfred to blush lightly. 

"No," he admitted sullenly, staring at his papers. "I don't even know what it is about him, Mattie! It's just… Every time I look at him, or think about him, I just get so frickin' nervous and shit, and I start sweating and it's _awful_!" he whined, slumping over and pouting at his laughing twin. "It's not funny!" 

Matthew made a show of wiping his eyes. "Yes, it is, and you know it is," he countered, smirking wide. "You're a big boy now, Alfie. Just sit next to him and introduce yourself." He huffed, obviously exasperated. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

"He thinks I'm an idiot and never wants to see me again?" Alfred suggested, depressing himself further. 

Matthew's expression deadpanned. "Everyone thinks you're an idiot, Al," he said, earning a frown from his American twin. "Now think of what then the best thing that could happen is."

Alfred waited for a moment, and then huffed when Matt just stared pointedly at him. "I don't know, Matt, what's the best thing that could happen?" 

"He thinks you're an idiot and talks to you anyway." Matthew just looked at his brother. "Seriously, Al. It's not like you've got anything to lose if he doesn't talk to you. But you're never going to know if you don't man up and take initiative." 

Alfred mumbled to himself, agreeing reluctantly. He was still unconvinced that it wouldn't be the end of his world; his nerves were bad. "Still," he sighed. 

"Maybe he wants to talk to you, too, but like you, he's just as nervous," Matthew suggested, a soft look in his eyes. "Maybe he's waiting and hoping for you to start things and be the hero that brings you two together." 

Alfred perked up at the word "hero", a small smile spreading on his lips. "You think so?" he asked excitedly. 

Matthew shrugged. "You won't know until you try." 

Alfred smiled wider, standing and gathering his twin into a bear hug, nearly dragging the poor Canadian out of his seat. "That's brilliant, Mattie! You're a genius!" 

Matthew simply smiled a self-satisfied grin. "I know." 

They finished their coffee soon after, Alfred finishing his grading and stuffing his papers back into his bag as Matthew returned his laptop to its case, the twins standing and walking out and back to their respective destinations with a wave. 

Alfred practically skipped back to the school, thinking over everything his brother had said. Matthew was right – there really wasn't much to lose simply by introducing himself, and if his thought about the guy being just as shy was right, too, then it was his duty as a hero to do them both a favor! 

As he entered his classroom, setting his things down, his mind was made up: that ride home would be the deciding evening. He was either going to be turned away, or at the very least have made a new friend. 

He couldn't keep himself from glancing at the clock the rest of the afternoon. 

. . . 

The bus rolled slowly to the pickup point later that evening, Alfred standing in the chilling air and bouncing around in nervous excitement and anticipation as the doors slid open. He gave his customary wave to the driver as he climbed the stairs, showing off his brightest smile to the little old lady as he always did as he shuffled down the aisle to his seat. His grin widened even more as he saw that lovely mop of blond hair behind his normal seat, bent over another novel. To his immense delight, only one earbud was in the man's ear this time. He would be able to hear Alfred introduce himself, at least. 

Taking a deep breath, Alfred continued down the aisle, waving to the young woman sitting across the aisle from his seat as she glanced up from her laptop, earning a small wave before she continued her work. This time, however, he didn't slide into his own seat; he passed it and stood awkwardly for a moment next to the seat by the gorgeous blond. 

With one last internal debate, Alfred kicked his nerves where the sun didn't shine and kindly told them to piss off as he sat in the available seat, feeling his jacket brush against the man's sleeve. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, inhaling the blond's cologne that wafted from him, staring determinedly forward as he worked to get his anxiety under control. 

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" he finally said, turning his head to look at the man in profile. 

Green eyes in a pale face turned to meet his blues, the irises shining contentedly and a relaxed set to his features. "Not at all," he replied, a smile upturning his lips. Alfred about melted at his voice, soothing and even with an underlying burr of an accent – an _English_ accent. Alfred loved anything and everything that was English and was unashamed to admit it. 

His grin widened, eyes sparkling. "Excuse my fanboy moment, but oh, my God, you're accent is the greatest!" he squealed. Seriously. _Squealed._  

The man's own smile turned smirk-like as he slid a bookmark in between the pages and closed his book on his crossed legs. "I get that a lot here." 

Alfred laughed. "I'll bet," he agreed. "I'm Alfred, by the way." 

The Englishman chuckled. "Arthur. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Took you long enough." 

Alfred paused, cocking his head to the side in confusion. "Long enough?" he asked. 

Arthur laughed this time, crossing his arms. "The reflection in the mirror shows both sets of seats, lad." 

As he thought over Arthur's words, Alfred felt himself flush in embarrassment. He hadn't been as sneaky as he'd thought. Alfred chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Heh, yeah, I guess it does…" Then: "Hey! Does that mean you were watching me, too?" He smirked as Arthur's face flushed lightly as well, his own smirk still in place. 

"Possibly." 

They both chuckled again, Alfred leaning against the seat as the bus continued on its route. He and Arthur continued to chat aimlessly, everything from work – Arthur happened to be the new AP Literature teacher at the school Alfred taught at; he was ecstatic! – to hobbies – Arthur loved gardening and reading classic literature; Alfred was more into video games and comics, but they both enjoyed BBC _Sherlock_ and _Doctor Who_ – and pets – Arthur also owned a cat, a Scottish Fold named Scone. 

Alfred was almost saddened when the bus pulled into the little Englishman's stop. He pouted as Arthur began gathering his things as the beast slowed to stop. "Aw, do you have to get off now?" 

Arthur smiled at him. "I'm afraid so, Alfred," he sighed. "I've Scone to feed, as well as myself." Alfred stood as he did, allowing him out. "I did enjoy conversing with you, though. Thank you." 

"No problem, Artie!" Alfred smiled as well. As he watched Arthur head down to the front he called out, "Can we meet up sometime tomorrow?" 

Arthur turned back. "Of course. You mentioned your free period was fourth block, correct?" 

Alfred nodded. "The little café down the street has pretty good teas and stuff. My treat?" 

Arthur didn't reply, instead reaching into his own bag for a scrap of paper and scribbling something on it, before quickly making his way back to Alfred. He grabbed the American by his hand, pulling Alfred down to his face level. "Oh, it most certainly will be," he purred into Alfred's ear as he tucked the paper into his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to the American's jaw, winked and turned on his heel, gathering his things as heading down the stairs, waving to Alfred as he disappeared into the evening air. 

Alfred willed his deep blush from his cheeks as he sat back down, a stupid smile on his lips as he looked down at the paper Arthur had given him: 

 _I look forward to tomorrow, love._  
_Let's set a playdate for Scone and Hero, hm?  
__xxx-xxxx_  

Alfred's cheeks were still hurting as he stumbled in a hazy daze from the bus when it came to his stop. He definitely did skip all the way home, and he indeed celebrated with Hero by stuffing his face with a homemade hamburger and a _Harry Potter_ mini-marathon. He couldn't wait for the next day. 

Arthur's face was a new face on the six-fifteen bus home, and he couldn't wait to see it again.  

**Author's Note:**

> Send me prompts on tumblr at [whiskey-jim](http://whiskey-jim.tumblr.com) OR [whiskey-jimwrites](http://whiskey-jimwrites.tumblr.com) !!


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